Tearjerker
by stakeh
Summary: AU Living in a theatre with sexually frustrated, delusional, violent, and lazy people was hard. Especially when a family you didn't even know you had shows up for a visit. NejiGaa. Slight future KankyGaa. NaruSasu. Rated M for a reason. Discontinued.
1. Past Meet Present

_Warning(s): _Yaoi. Alternate universe.

_Disclaimer: _Me no own.

_By W.V1x3_

* * *

**This.Is.A.**_Tearjerker._**Crying.Now.For.Him.**

**One.**_Past.Meet.Present._

* * *

I didn't really understand what was going on and why my daddy signed those papers. Perhaps he was just trying earnestly to get me away, but that's where the confusion intruded. My sister and brother wouldn't look at me in the eye at all. I felt the tears burn at the back of my eyelids even though they were shut. Selling, buying—it was a whole other concept I had yet to understand. 

Still the days passed and pulled at the new years. And those years eventually trudged on, too. Now I'm older, and now I understand what happened. Scars can't heal when more only form in their place. Actually, scars don't heal at all. So technically, it turned into a roadway of marks overlapping more marks. So disgusting, so repulsing, yet so damn beautiful.

Was it my fault that they left before I had a chance to yell at them? I don't even think I have any anger left for them, it all flew away, whispering promises to return. But I don't think they'll return; what's gone is gone, that's what I always believe. So I'll just sit here with my knees tucked tight to my chest, and maybe hope a little. Chew on my nails until they bleed.

Nervousness is an emotion well known to me. It's like asking for some milk with those cookies. Even the small voices that balance around me, tipsy and drunk, don't even out the guilt and shame. It's overwhelming. Barefooted and alone, I scream in the silence that murdered my mother.

Signing for a job you don't even want and scripting a masterpiece that never had inspiration. The words just flow from my fingertips, concocted from the depths of a mind long lost to the swirling insanity. Sometimes I dare to wonder what could have happened had I actually shot for a chance in stardom. Would I have made it? The neck-high waters swishing this way and that don't seem to agree.

Yet out there under the sweat-drawing lights, my mind echoes to the greedy consumers. Behind the scenes, curtains wrap around unwanted haunts and overdue revenges. I guess they're happy, but I'm not. Ignore those damn human morals, just ignore them. Who cares how I feel? Definitely not those who should.

If I am old enough, will they let me go? I'm not really sure if I would leave. This is my home, no matter how head turning it is. I'm trying to find a way out. Treasures spill around me, taken for granted, yet never reaching the borders of my daymare. Memories strike up like thunderstorms and wreck havoc for as long as the year allows. I wish they'd die down; I need to get some sleep.

I want an output for this confusion. It's not exactly pain. More of an evanescent reality, making way for the more…broken creatures. Good thing I stand on the sidelines, not the frontlines. Candlelight is never nice to read by; gives me such horrible headaches. Maybe I should put away the book for the night. If I'm trying to sleep, reading isn't going to egg that on anymore than eating spicy salsa would make it rain.

Speaking of rain, I missed yesterday's bout. Makes me feel a bit annoyed with myself. After all, the only comfort I have to be angry at is myself. I love the feeling of water. I hate the feeling of being wet. Pain borders pleasure, hate borders love, and male borders female. It's all the same to the sanity freaks like me, who will, sadly, never achieve such high levels of understanding.

I believe someone's knocking at the wooden door to my "sleeping-quarters" which, oddly enough, I never use to sleep. Usually I fall asleep in someone else's. Like yesterday. And the other five days of the week. Instead of answering, I roll over onto my side, tugging my scarlet bed sheets up over my head, relishing the blanket of darkness that reigns. The door creaks open and a slant of light flickers over a small part of the floor, only to diminish as it collides with the light from the candle.

Soft footfalls tell me that they aren't going to leave me to myself any time soon. As they approach, I visibly (at least to my own self) flinch and sigh silently. More weight is added to the bed and me, being as unstable as I am, practically slide to the left a bit. A hushed, female voice whispers, "You awake?"

"Was."

Personally, the answer doesn't make very much sense. If I _was _awake, then I'd currently _be _asleep, which obviously isn't the case. Mumbling incoherently and flipping back onto my other side, I narrow my jade eyes in the shadow's direction. "What the hell do you want? They catch you and you're dead."

The nine-year-old isn't even affected by this threat. "Couldn't sleep."

"Join the club, we mail fan letters to the sandman." She giggled past stick-thin fingers. "Really, why are you here? I could be doing things so much more productive than baby-sitting nine-year-olds whom drink coffee like it's their daily milk douse." The curly-haired kid only giggled again. I gave up, licking two fingers and reaching to extinguish the candle flame.

Now basking in only the light of the candle she carried by its holder, I frowned. After a long stretch of silence, she murmured softly, "If mamma finds me here, will she be mad?"

I nodded slowly.

"Why? Mamma doesn't like you."

"Not many people here do," I replied sadly. That only seemed to drag more curiosity from here as she leaned over.

"Your make-up is fading." Her scrunched up expression clearly showed just how intrigued she was by the fact that I slept in my make-up. What? Real men wear eyeliner. It's under the Ten Commandments. Or at least my version.

"Thank you for the update," I answered dryly. "Now look, you aren't even supposed to be on this side of the theatre. Go back to bed. You're completely right. If your mom finds out you've come over here, no matter how entertaining I may be," I flashed a sarcastic smile, "you'll never live to see next Christmas."

A look of horror crossed over her features.

"Exactly. Now run along, I need my beauty sleep." With another look, the kid slid down from the bed and scurried back out of the room. I heard a whispered, "I think you're cool," before the room grew silent once more, everything falling into darkness. I smiled to myself.

* * *

Red, or purple? Maybe I'll try both. 

Talented fingers quickly got to work lining the make-up. Not even glancing into the mirror strung up by a metal wire (I'm not _that _vain), I pulled on a slightly warm jacket and slipped out of my "sleeping quarters". To my utmost surprise, the hallways were packed and busy with bustling residents.

I see an angel, and she's looking at me!

That was quite random on my part, but you know what they say— "Neji!" The brown-haired hermaphrodite spun towards the shout. I smirked. He frowned, some mighty worrisome worry lines creasing his porcelain skin.

"The clowns were recently assigned quarters in the basement, if you might have forgotten." That was cold…

"I'm not a _clown_, angel, dear," I gritted out. He only smirked, mocking my earlier expression of triumph. "Why are you here anyway? Shouldn't you be enjoying a fine, winter's morning with your hundred thousand dollars up at your family's mansion?"

It wasn't a surprise, or even close to one, when he abruptly walked off. Though somehow, that was even more disturbing than any kind of piercing comeback. Yesterday night hadn't been _that _bad, had it? Suddenly I was doubting.

My depressing discovery of rejection was cut short when a hand firmly gripped my shoulder, and burning blue eyes slipped over my shoulder, hooking with my own. Little marks, evenly distributed, lined his cheeks, three on each, and a wide grin plastered his handsome face. Unruly blond hair graced the soft edges of his eyelashes, but he shook it away. "Hello beautiful," he purred.

I was tempted to raise an eyebrow.

"Naruto," I said, returning the greeting with a little bit of a winter's chill.

The grin tipped off of his lips in a quick blink. "Why the cold shoulder, love?" The strands of honey-gold slipped into place in front of those sparkling eyes again, and I itched to brush them back.

"You stole my angel's heart away," I answered, a small little smirk masking the pure hurt of the truth in my words.

"Oh…? _Oh_!" It was almost cute to see that flicker of understanding pass over his features. And I almost felt bad. But almost is an off-balance word, so really, I _did_ feel bad, and I _did_ think it cute to see him catch on.

"The hermaphrodite? Yeah, he's one good kisser."

"Thank you for being so fucking obvious, Naruto." Maybe that was a bit too much.

His brows creased in part confusion, part anger. "What—"

"Drop it, the conversation has just died and been buried. Tell me, what kind of flowers would look best on its grave?" Naruto clearly didn't appreciate my dry humor, but honestly, I was starting to loose all patience.

"Jeez Gaara, I didn't mean to offend you like that…"

"Too late." With one last long, even look, I left the hallway, and hurried for the front entrance, where I knew peace would come to me. Outside cold raindrops fell, bringing on a cold day, bringing on an even colder pain, biting at my heart.

Absentmindedly, I wrung my fingers to keep them warm.

* * *

Neji was pacing again, and he knew it. His cousins knew it, his uncle knew it, the entire room full of people knew it. But for some reason, he couldn't will himself to take a seat among the group, for that would only cause the tension to rise sky-high. 

Now he wasn't one to argue with the word of the family, but he _wouldn't_ just stand there and let them fulfill their wish. It was outrageous! No way in all of hell was he going to let them carry their idea out. No, no, _no_.

Someone politely cleared his throat, causing Neji to snap back to reality with a painful jerk. Brushing his hair over one shoulder to remove it from his view, the brunette reluctantly took a seat, knowing if this wasn't the time to act, then he wouldn't go against it. Fate had been kind to him once, given him another way out, but he didn't expect a second chance to come without a fight.

"I understand the reason that has brought us all together, and I vow to make myself clear once, and only once; if anyone other than Hyuuga Neji disagrees, please make yourself present," the tall, proud looking man said in a strong and serious voice. After a moment of heady silence, Neji holding his breath deep in his lungs, a lone person stood from her seat, lips drawn tight. He nearly fell out of his own seat at the sight of just who it was.

"Hinata?"

"I disagree as well. It is not right. My home is within that theatre, and I will not stand to see it fall." Something glittered deep in the depths of her misty eyes.

"I see. Neji, if you will," Hiashi continued, dignified as ever. His nephew stood and made quick eye contact with his cousin, before turning to face the man. "You must understand, Neji, Hinata, we have a contract."

"That does not make it all right to tear down a steady-running business," Neji interjected, causing a few people in the room to stare with obvious disdain.

Hinata faltered a bit in her air of superiority, but regained it quickly. "I completely agree with Neji. This will not be able to proceed. Please forgive me, but I am ending all alliances with the Strand Theatre."

Silence blanketed the room, interrupted as several voices rose in anger. Hiashi shushed everyone with a quick snap, Neji falling silent as well. At first, he had to admit he was quite surprised and slightly relieved Hinata was with him on this, but breaking the alliance…that was almost worse.

"What brought this decision on, may I ask, Hinata?" Hiashi questioned in a miffed tone. He had never suspected his daughter would even _think_ of something this surprising. She nodded, bangs falling briefly into her eyes.

"I believe it is our only other option. Let us leave the theatre alone before we destroy it all together. Too many cooks ruins the stew," she murmured in a joking voice. Neji scowled. Now he wasn't with her on _this_ one.

Pulling on an expressionless mask, Neji excused himself rather rudely and left the large room, needing to let off some steam. He loved the theatre…too much, to do…that, believe it or not.

No, he would rather be kicked from the Hyuuga family then let go of the theatre.

* * *

We rarely got any kind of audience when the streets were sheeted with ice. Lots of accidents, maybe, but not many people wanting to watch any performances by the "freaks that never sleep." I winced as the loud cry of a siren passed by just beyond my window. Drunk driving never saved anyone anything except broken bones and panicking hospital employees. 

Someone knocked on my door again, and I growled slightly to myself, answering the pounding with a very negative answer to come in. Can't I just have some peace? Taking a walk didn't fulfill that; I was freezing my ass off within a span of twenty minutes.

A dark-haired, well-known teenager pushed the door open; expression blank and eyes empty as well. His black, tailored suit was anything but dressy. More of an invitation to plant a big sign on him, labeled 'RICH.' I hissed past my clenched teeth. Another interruption, dammit, leave me the hell alone. Can't you people see I'm trying to wallow in my own miseries!

"Guests."

Oh, well, then, never mind. I like guests. They're fun.

Jumping from the sill, I reached for my shirt (yes, I took it off in freezing weather), buttoned it up hastily (noting some watchful eyes), and skid past Sasuke. "Nice love bite," was murmured over my shoulder. I snickered as he paled. Oh yes, money can't hide anything. It can _buy _anything, but not keep it from the public eye.

And now out in the main corridor, I remembered that I had no idea who the guests were, what they wanted, and whether I would get anything out of it. I could at least welcome them to this beautiful, expensive hellhole, but that's about it. This wasn't a hotel, might I remind myself, but I guess we were selling rooms for the night. Strange. Was the rain and frozen-over roads really that bad?

The three guests stood clustered by the ticket booth, though no longer in service due to personal handling, dressed clearly, to impress. I put on a mask that fit the situation. Calm, reserved, yet so fucking excited to be of service!

"Three?" I murmured in monotone, having years of work and blistering training to know just what to do and say.

Thankfully, the mask had a positive side to it, too: obliviousness.

I missed the horrified look on the twenty-looking blond girl's face, the shocked look on the younger-looking brunette boy's face, and the equally as shocked, if not more, look on the adult man's face.

Past, meet present. Have a nice day.

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**LIKE? **

**Please, do review.**

**This idea didn't take very long to bloom. A lot of ideas have recently taken over. I thought Demons With White Wings would be the first to actually be posted but…oh well. **

**Pairings are still being debated. If you wish, you can suggest a few, and we'll talk. (GRIN) This story won't be too long. Maybe fifteen chapters, maybe more, maybe less.**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR, ALL. **


	2. Leaving, Letting, Lusting

_Warning(s):_ _YAOI-RELATED-SCENES, language, and anger problems. Oh and a PMSing Gaa-chan. That's something to look out for._

_Disclaimer: I own my ideas, not the characters._

_Author Note: It's about time I got around to these author notes. I was just actually working on chapter three of this story when I got two wonderful additions to my review board for SoR, so I shall write both at once! Enjoy the chapter!_

_**By W.V1x3**_

* * *

**This.Is.A.**_Tearjerker._**Crying.Now.For.Him.**

**Two.**_Leaving.Letting.Lusting.

* * *

_

One problem with certain guests: they won't fucking leave you alone once you've introduced and acquainted yourself with them. I mean it's only natural to sit down at the table once your host or hostess has seated you; you don't just get back up and follow them back to the front. That's just not right. It's against the rules, godsdammit.

Yet that one guy is tailing me like he has a reason to do so. Makes the nice in me angry. I would even, at this point, accept the company of an Uchiha. Now that's somehow hard to believe, I know, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Which is why I'm hiding right now. I've always liked this little side closet, just off the main stage area. I'm not claustrophobic, I'm not afraid of the dark, but I am deathly afraid of heights. Leave the backstage jobs to the backstage people.

The darkness of the closet wasn't the problem; it was the silence. When it was too quiet, I had the tendency to break it by either coughing, or making some sort of noise. Mostly I'd just play some old metal CDs I thieved from some other people, the hermaphrodite, Naruto, and the Uchiha family included. But right now, this type of silence wouldn't fade away, and all I could hear was my own short breaths.

Footsteps passed outside the small, enclosed room. After a bit, some more footsteps passed by, going in the opposite direction. In the back of my mind, I had the odd sensation that I was being stalked. Now honestly I've never had that feeling, so I wasn't completely sure. There wasn't really anywhere for me to go where I could be stalked easily. Besides, who'd want to stalk me? All of the interesting stuff happens in my head; actions never did express me well.

After a while I found myself drifting off to sleep. Sleep! Yes, just what I need, though I'm sure tonight I'll be getting plenty of it. Insert completely annoyed face here. Like I said, we don't get audiences when it rains, and right now, that damn rain won't stop pouring. As a result of the weather, I don't work. As a result of not working, I get more free time (and no pocket money, sadly).

Free time wasn't as wonderful as it may sound, mind you. If I had free time, everyone pretty much had free time, which meant if I wanted to take a walk around the theatre, I'd see quite a lot of familiar faces. Work kept me occupied. Without it, I was…well, lost.

So now, for lack of a better explanation, I was asleep. How can you be asleep and think at the same time? Usually you'd fade…fade…fade away, consciousness lost to the world. But I'm not. I'm asleep and I still think. Call it a gift, but I call it a freakin' nightmare. Who wants to think when they're asleep! Certainly not people in the right of mind.

I'm awakened when a bright light hits my closed eyelids, causing them to snap open. Unfortunately for me, I'm met with the last person I want to see. Okay, second last.

…Third last.

His obsidian eyes mock me almost. "Would you like to come out of the closet now, dearest?"

What I _wouldn't_ give to rip his fucking _eyelashes_ off _one _by_ one_ right now is very little. "_You_ try being stalked in a theatre and see how many hiding places _you_ can find," I shot back.

"Stalked? You sure it isn't just the voices in your head again? They like to weave circles, I'm told." The pure entertainment just seems to shine in those black eyes of his, waiting for me to crack and throw the closest object in reach (that being, sadly, a handful of dust from the closet floor) at him.

I scowled. This wasn't even amusing anymore. I was bitter, I was annoyed, I was being stalked, and I was stuck in a small, dark place with a taunting demon blocking my only exit. "Please leave me alone, Sasuke, I'd rather not be forced to hurt you."

Suddenly the mask is back on his face. I'm beginning to think that everyone in this hellhole has one; we're very talented with keeping a straight face, actually. Except perhaps Naruto. Unless you call smiling pretty and batting those golden lashes of his a mask. Why am I suddenly so angry with everyone? Was Ino or Sakura here, they'd be telling me to eat some chocolate.

He scoffed to himself, before extending a hand for me to grab and pull myself up. I personally take the chance to glare at him, refusing to move. "Stay in here any longer and you'll start to suffocate from all the dust you've inhaled."

I almost felt like accepting that as a hint of concern, except right now I wasn't in the best of moods. I wouldn't have been surprised if there was dust streaking my gray shirt grayer. "Oh fuck the dust. They never clean these places out anyway."

Sasuke nearly smirked. I wanted, oh-so wanted to hiss and glare an evil, evil glare that would set him aflame, but right now wasn't exactly the time. Instead I stood up, leaning against the closet wall for support, and pushed past him. If I had been facing him, I would've seen an adorable look of fulfillment on his face, like a child that just found a large lollipop on the ground, but I wasn't, so that's that.

* * *

Kiba set his bow done, eyes widening at the sight of, well, the girl that had caught his attention so many months before. She cast a look at the viola, the intricate patterns carved beautifully onto the wooden surface doing nothing to make this easier for her. Oh what to say, what to say? 

"Kiba Inuzuka," she greeted solemnly. Her dark bangs were brushed back so she could meet him, nearly eye-to-eye. Kiba took a second to marvel at her stance. Strong, never diminishing.

"No need for formalism, Hinata. What's up?" He gave her a half-hearted, awkward grin, noting the tense air that fell in her footsteps.

She swallowed, breaking the eye contact. "We're leaving."

His world came crashing down in that small, hateful instant.

"_What_?" The viola nearly clattered to the ground as his voice hit the practice room walls. Hinata winced, but expected this, seeing as Kiba wasn't one for controlling any of his emotions. Several voices began to stir as a result to the loud shout.

"We're leaving in one month, six days. Our alliance with the Strand Theatre has been severed due to…unsettlement within the family. I believe the Uchihas are to take our place." A dog barked somewhere off in the city, the sound drifting through the open window.

"But there aren't nearly as many appealing women in that family!" Kiba practically pleaded. She chuckled softly to herself.

"I am truly sorry, Kiba. Please, do meet me at the kitchens in the evening, and we will continue to talk further. I must leave, Hiashi expects to see me soon."

Sometimes Kiba deeply hated that damn, formal tone she used. It covered up everything single thing she was feeling so freaking well. "F-fine."

She turned, and left him with his beloved viola.

Almost immediately the shock evaporated, making way for pure rage, searing in his veins. To soothe the horrible feeling he had, Kiba picked up one of the orchestra chairs, and cleanly chucked it across the room, ending in a loud smash against the wall. Now the voices were loudly protesting to his antics.

* * *

There was something about the theatre chairs, so soft and comfortable, that lulled me to sleep for a second damn time today. I miss a few nights of sleep, and this is my result, it seems. No one's currently in the large room, leaving me to an empty silence that's about as unnerving as the dusty closet. 

The red-cushioned chairs lined all the way from the very back walls, to just before the orchestra platform. Stairwells sat in four different locations, leading to another floor of chairs, looking down on the performers. Thanks to the wealthy Hyuuga family that owned the building, everything was just close to brand new, ending all the way at the props.

I currently resided, half-lounged across the chair, three rows center from the main stage. The only sounds I could hear at the moment were the soft sweeping noises of a broom backstage. Other than that, the silence was thick and uncomfortable. But I was half-asleep so I wasn't that aware.

I wasn't even aware of approaching footfalls, heavy yet light at the same time. I blinked blurrily, then dismissed it and repositioned myself groggily. As I was falling asleep again, someone poked my shoulder blade rudely. I grumbled, and hissed out a "Go away before I get angry," before leaving the conscious world for a third time.

And yet, the poking continued.

After a few more minutes, it turned into a very annoying shaking, which turned into an all out, battle-to-push-me-out-of-my-chair war. Fuming, I jerked awake and narrowed my eyes (I'll admit more to see who it was than to glare) at the perpetrator. A blurry outline of bright, spiky hair and a rather scornful scowl in place answered my Who-Is-It? question immediately.

"What could you _possibly_ want now, bastard?" I mumbled, blinking again to clear my eyes.

He sighed visibly. "Look, I don't know why you're so pissed, but I thought I'd just tell you now that Neji's leaving soo—"

"_What_?" Seems like chain reactions were carrying throughout the theatre, because at that same moment, a very loud crash came from inside the practice room offstage. Naruto jumped slightly, and spun towards the door.

"What was _that_?"

I frowned at his white-clad back. "Obviously someone as pissed as I."

"Oh shut it," Naruto answered back. Now completely abandoning his earlier mission to tell me that the ever-so-enticing hermaphrodite was leaving forever, the blond stepped back out into the aisle and jogged to the orchestra room, disappearing inside.

I remained where I was. This information was almost worst than the time I was told how I got here. And my immediate thoughts to kill the messenger left me as I pondered just what affect this would have. Who was taking over? Would I miss him? Would he miss me? Would our props still be bought right off the market?

Jumping from my seat, I dashed out of the silent room, leaving only my pounding footsteps behind. _Must find him, must find him, _was all my mind repeated.

* * *

Now back in the entrance hall, I spotted my stalker, and his opposed family. Oh perfect. I glanced them all over, never really taking in their appearance before. The brunette (stalker) stood taller than the blond, though he seemed below her in age. Brown hair that reminded me faintly of Naruto's was currently kept under a dark purple, and backwards hat, and his expression simply said: I'm-here-so-smile, as did his blue shirt. Normal jeans finished the picture, and at first I could have said 'sexy' but ended up with a very screwed up expression of 'oh-fuck-no-I-did-not-just-think-that'. 

Standing a little off to the left was the blond, taking in a large picture hanging on the wall, done by one of the residents here. It was a landscape of bones, some on fire, as strange as that may seem, and a figure standing amongst the field, back to the audience, short, shaggy black hair curling just atits ears. The rest of the figure was covered in dark shadowing.

At the bottom right was a clumsily scrawled signature, **_Dei._** She seemed innocently intrigued by the picture, her arms crossed over her red, long-sleeved t-shirt, along with black shorts and boots with red stockings. Her hair had been pulled up into a number of ponytails, using a number of rubber bands by a number of colors. She was too entranced in the painting to notice me, as was the brunette who was currently talking to another brown-haired teenager, but the man was.

And he was watching me with a frown. Or was that a scowl?

He wore an un-tucked, dressy white shirt, black slacks, and a black jacket over the shirt. It was a suit. He was staring at me ever so intently. A shiver rolled down my spine, and I high-tailed it out of there, continuing down the hall for my own sake.

As I neared the door to the separate wing for the high-class people, my steps slowed. What on _earth_ was I doing? Losing my nerve, I turned back around, and was about to somehow avoid everyone by escaping to my room, when I stopped abruptly.

"N-_Neji_?"

He stood before me, elegant as ever, with his hair down and fanned out on his back. The 'angel' wore a surprisingly dark shirt, with black pants and dress shoes. He looked like he was ready to leave for a funeral, and his facial features were drawn tight. Over all, he looked tired, like he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night. I gulped and looked away.

"I'm guessing you were looking for me."

The hallway as I noticed now was empty, which only seemed to make me more skittish about the situation. Neji tilted his head to the side, simply testing me, to see what I would do.

"So y-you're…really leaving?" I whispered, hating my own uneasiness.

He nodded slowly, still watching, still testing. I instantly grew a little bit angrier. At him. At everyone. At the whole damn world.

"How could you just let this happen! How could you just get up and go like this! You know the theatre needs you, and yet—"

I was cut off by the last thing I expected. Suddenly I was battling for at least a few breaths of air, as Neji held me against the wall tightly, covering my mouth, with his.

* * *

Sometimes Temari wondered what ran the world. She wondered about a lot of things lately, like why they were here at this particular place, and why she was going through this torment, and why her brother was being such a pest. 

"I don't know, Kankuro," she answered automatically to his question, even though she didn't even hear it.

"—but did you see him! Holy shit, Temari! He's like… Did you _see _him! I did! I could _see_ his ribs right through his freaking shirt!" the brunette ranted.

She sighed heavily. "Just drop it. He isn't any of our concern anymore."

"Like hell he is! It's our fault, and you know it, Temari! We could've done something! And no way am I going to just—just sit back and let it happen again! You know it's our fault, I know you know." He was fuming. Kankuro couldn't understand his sister sometimes.

The two were alone currently in their small, rented room at the last place either of them wanted to be. They were at the place they sold their own _brother_ too, illegally none the less. For what? A few nights of overflowing bank accounts? It wasn't even that much money!

"Kankuro, he's not our brother anymore. He's barely even related to us.We may share the same dad, but not the same birth mother. Just drop it already."

Kankuro glared, so angry that he could yank her by her hair until she got it through her head. Slowly, the anger ebbed away, leaving room for pure guilt. "How can we…how could we do that…he was our—our brother…"

"You seem to have forgotten. We didn't do it, dad did."

"How could we let him!"

"We couldn't exactly stop him, he was twice our _size_." She avoided looking directly into his eyes; it hurt too much to face him.

Kankuro scowled. "He isn't anymore! I'm taller than you! You're the same height as him practically!" Temari stood up, glancing back at her brother, before leaving the room with a silent, "I'll be back later," leaving Kankuro to sink into his own depression.

Almost immediately, his mind began to reel. _We've got to get him out of here.

* * *

_

I don't know how it happened. I don't even know how it started. Not this, I mean. I don't know how this odd relationship began. Maybe it was just the oncoming of hormones developing, or the fact that we were both miserable in our own little way, but one night I just ended up with him, in his room, and one thing led to another, and—

It wasn't as though right now I minded. I'm just too confused about all of this. He started something with me, ended it, started something with Naruto, and randomly came back to me. I had a minor ounce of pity for the blond, but that somehow instantly left as he nibbled at my collarbone.

Here we were, back to where it all started. I don't think I'm going to be able to stand him leaving, because as much as I hate him, I love him too much to let go. No, I wasn't going to think about that right now. All I wanted to think about was him, and me, here, right now.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as he laid me down and gently went to unbutton my black shirt. His eyes were glazed over with lust, so I couldn't really tell what he was thinking. My own pale eyes were half shut; I didn't blame him either. This felt too good to be aware of anything else.

Half-realizing that this wasn't exactly a good time to do this, I bit back a moan as he ran a hand down my stomach.

Again, again. Why do we always return to this?

* * *

**Aw, sorry to cut it here loves. I try not to make the chapters overly long, because that'll just kill me. **

**Please review. Pairings have already been decided. Check the summary to find most of them.**

**Hope you like!**

**Hearts! **


	3. Hurtling Into the Dark

_Warning(s): MORE YAOI-RELATED-SCENES, (cough)SLIGHTRAPE(cough), seeeeeeecrets, odd dreams, coming-onto scenes, scary empty hallways, and cold weather. _

_Disclaimer: The corruptness of the characters in this fic are from my imagination; they do not belong to me, for if they did, Gaara would be in every single episode, and it would change networks from Toonami to adultswim so fast you'd miss it in a blink. _

_Author Note: If you are overly disturbed with ItaNaru, please leave. But I mean come on all you SasuNaruSasu fans! Itachi's his older brother! They're practically the same! Kinda sorta…

* * *

_

**This.Is.A.**_Tearjerker._**Crying.Now.For.Him.**

**Three.**_Hurtling.Into.the.Dark.

* * *

_

There was only one word you could've used to describe Naruto at the moment. He looked very passive, if his half-shut eyes were much to go by. But he wasn't passive. At least, not on the inside. On the inside of his raging soul, Naruto was pissed.

Pissed. Enraged. Perturbed. Aggravated. Frustrated. Irked. Rumpled. Annoyed. Infuriated. Outraged. Wrathful. Inflamed. Indigent. Irate. Ireful. Wroth. Steaming. Riled. Apoplectic. Incensed. …Pissed.

It wasn't his fault that Kiba though it 'best' if he told the two about their new jobs. Personally he'd rather be climbing the grand staircase in a crowd of people, naked. This was much worse than humiliation. This was torturous punishment. He just hoped he could escape as unscathed as possible.

Gulping thickly, Naruto let his forehead rest against the wood door for several moments, before plunging head first off that cliff and into hell. He knocked softly, hoping if no one answered then he'd be free to go straight to his next stop. Just as he had begun to turn around, a low affirmation reached his ears, and he faced the door again, eyes blazing. How he was going to survive, Naruto didn't know.

After entering the pitch room, he dug his hands into his pockets; gaze centered around a prone form, perched in much the same position as Gaara preferred to sit, on his windowsill. It was a habit of the redhead's, for just out his window, he had a wide view of the road below, and of anyone approaching the entrance to the theatre. Naruto willed his thoughts off of Gaara, and onto the man before him.

"Ah, Naruto, such a surprise."

_Yeah, right, I bet you heard me all the back down the hallway,_ was his first immediate thought. Naruto forced himself to stop jumping to conclusions. Neji once told him that that was what injured relationships, but the blond didn't really want a relationship with this guy in front of him, now did he.

He couldn't help the hesitant feeling that filled him at that moment. "Y-yeah."

The man stood from his seat, gaining at least three or more inches above Naruto's own height, forcing his blue eyes to look up to meet black ones. "What brings you here?" Naruto could've sworn he was visibly shaking now. If he had been Gaara, he would've just attached himself to Itachi's hip right there and purred his message into his ear, not stand here stone still with a detached expression.

Stop thinking about him, dammit! The redhead's not a slut; Naruto just didn't like how Gaara had been wrong; he wasn't the one who had stolen Neji's heart. No, the brunette's heart was stolen when Naruto first met him. That alone stung more than anything physical he had ever felt.

"I have news for you, Itachi." The older and more horribly attractive Uchiha raised an elegant eyebrow, returning to his seat, as though taunting Naruto, _'Come, sit in my lap, I don't bite.' _Naruto added a mental _'much'_ in there. "The Hyuuga family has broken the alliance with the Strand Theatre, and you, along with Sasuke, are to take over."

Itachi didn't even seem surprised. That unsettled him instantly.

After a few more tense seconds, Naruto began to inch back out of the dark room, having delivered the message, only to be stopped by a hand grasping his wrist. His eyes widened when he felt Itachi pull forward almost abusively, causing the blond to go tumbling against the older boy, falling into a sitting position in his _lap_. You could've cracked an egg on his face and cooked it.

Itachi tilted his head up, slipping his tongue out to run along his jaw line. The inner Naruto began screaming bloody murder, waving red warning flags, while the other shuddered from the sensation the Uchiha's tongue brought to his warm skin. As though snapping to his senses when a mental image of a laughing Gaara filled him mind, Naruto jerked away and tried to stumble his way out of the other's lap.

The Uchiha only tightened his hold, finding the sensitive spot on his neck, and taking a great amount of pleasure in it. When teeth bit down hard, the blond was so close to screaming for help it wasn't even funny, nor was the fact that inner Naruto number two was now in a fit of moans, especially when a hand found its way to rest on his outer thigh. Naruto bit his lips shut.

"I-Ita-ach-chi," he ground out through clenched teeth, fighting back the stupid pleasure probably anyone would have felt at the moment, Gaara included. "S-stop…" The tall, dark and evil Uchiha did not stop, and instead drug his tongue up to meet slightly parted lips, shoving in with a force enough to silent Naruto immediately. All the while he battled with himself, trying desperately to get away, no matter how much his body wanted it. This wasn't what he came for, dammit. He was here to deliver a message, and that was it.

Itachi continued though, despite his protests, and stood from the chair, practically shoving Naruto on the ground. After that, he happily climbed on top the blond, a smirk on his face that clearly said, 'scream-and-I'll-really-give-you-a-reason-to-scream'.

Naruto's breath caught in his throat. He didn't want this, no, he didn't, goddammit. Yet… Oh god someone wake him up, get him out of here. Itachi tugged at his shirt, a sparkle in his eye that only meant trouble for him. The blond was pinned, too shocked to do anything but let the older do what he wished with him. Naruto really needed to get out of the habit of freezing. It was causing him to get into very…strange situations.

* * *

I was calm. The waves roaring, crashing, always alive had been pulled at, until they fell under a spell. Now they lapped gently against my conscience. I hadn't fallen asleep again, because my catnaps earlier in the day were enough to keep me up all night. My sleeping pattern was so corrupt, no wonder I was able to do double-shifts back to back. I let my mind wander. 

It was so strange living here, being stuck here. Such a beautiful place for those who come and go during the season, yet when winter and snowstorms and sheets of ice hit hard, they all flee. Leaving those in residence year-round with only the comfort of each other. I look at them now, and I see the shadow they cast. It's lonely.

The Wheel of business spins, never stopping, never ceasing or changing. Since this far up north the winters tended to be brutal, the Wheel was the complete opposite of the one down south. It went something like this. Up north the filthy rich loved spending a night or two in, let's say, the expensive hotel down the road, because during summer and spring, the temperature's just right. Not too cold, not too warm. Perfect. And they make the best of that with their money.

Down south, the weather was beautiful during fall and winter. Not too warm, not too cold. So they shimmied their way south, like migrating birds, to spend their riches. It was a perfect plan. They didn't care that when they left a lot of the places they usually went closed down and waited for the season, earning the other Wheel money as they sat in the dark.

And when we stopped to take a rest over the cold, chilling months, we walked around, resembling ghosts a great deal. With nothing to do but wait till the elegantly dressed came back to the service they wanted. It all revolved around the money. But I guess that's okay. During the off-season I got to spend time with my fellow neighbors.

My mind drifted, this time, to the subject in my arms. His hair was cutely tangled in itself, making me want to finger-comb it straight again. We both were curled up against each other, our body heat keeping the rattling windowpanes from affecting us. Sure it was still cold, but under the sheets and blankets, all we felt was each other's warmth. I had to force back thoughts of kissing that pale forehead.

I knew it. I was already gone in a whirlwind of darkness. He was leaving, probably somewhere down south, and I'd never see him again. That thought made my heart ache beneath my bare chest. No, this couldn't happen…I didn't want him to go…he was too precious. Damn me for getting so attached.

Lightly, I ran a finger down his cheekbone, simply basking in the pleasure of watching him sleep, so relaxed, so carefree, probably in a world that didn't have money, didn't have anything that could destroy. I envied him, almost. To be able to sleep it all away when I had to face reality and fight it off for him, only nabbing a few hours of sleep every little while in short bursts.

But it was worth it. I'd give up sleep altogether to be able to just hold him against me like this.

Vaguely, I was aware of the rain turn to ice, and continue beating against the windows, desperate to bring the hail in and break the calm atmosphere.

Calm. I felt so calm with him.

* * *

Naruto stumbled back out into the hall, hurriedly buttoning up his shirt, practically feeling the devil claw back out of hell and reach for him again. He gulped. It was good to get out without getting…that far, but he still felt violated. The blond shuddered; forgetting to upturn his collar when walking by an open window, and feeling the wind whip straight down his shirt, grazing his skin. He had been forced to kick at Itachi to get him to back off. The Uchiha was that bad. 

Still shivering when he returned to the slightly heated hallways of the next floor down, Naruto scanned the area, cobalt eyes fixing on the next place he had to go. Surprisingly, he found the door to Sasuke's room open. This made him a little nervous, and concerned, knowing Sasuke was a personal space whore. That thought made him chuckle outwardly.

Tapping the door with his knuckles but gaining no answer, Naruto inched into the room and looked around widely. It was dark. Very dark. But he could still see. Blinking, he focused his blue eyes on the prominent lump of blanket sprawled across the other boy's bed. Raising an eyebrow, Naruto crept over and prodded it, much like he did to Gaara earlier that day. "Sasuke?" he questioned softly.

There was a groan and a shift of blanket, but nothing else. Seating himself on the edge of the bed, he began to tug the blankets slowly off of what he thought was Sasuke. Naruto smirked when he found the raven-haired teenager curled up tightly to fend of the cold air, and in the back of his mind he wondered why Sasuke had left his window open. Shrugging it off, he began to conjure up ways to wake the sleeping boy up. But first…

Naruto glanced him over. He looked so fragile lying there, wrapped up in his own warmth, black bangs covering up closed eyelids, and lips parted slightly to let out little breaths of air that, scarily enough, Naruto could see. Instantly his concern sharpened. He was going to catch a cold if he remained…wearing only…boxers…

He blushed darkly. _Great one, Sasuke. _Moving to lean over him, Naruto nudged his cheek with the back of his hand. "Wakey, wakey, sleepy head," he cooed in a mock girly voice, but whispered it, half-hoping he would stay asleep so that Naruto could continue the fun. It was odd, in the back of his mind Naruto felt like some patrol guy going around making sure people didn't fall asleep on the job. A smirk pulled at his lips again. "Sasu-kun, wake up." Now his voice was even softer, and his breath ghosted across the other's lips, causing Sasuke to shiver, though Naruto doubted it was from the cold air.

Naruto also had a lingering suspicion he was only feigning sleep now. Sighing heavily, he pushed Sasuke onto his back and leaned completely over him, deciding that Sasuke wouldn't kill him if he woke him up…the nice way.

Practically purring, Naruto leaned closer, brushing his lips over the corner of Sasuke's mouth, enjoying the attention Sasuke was unconsciously giving him by pressing upwards ever so slightly. But before the blond could indulge in a complete kiss, Sasuke yawned an open-mouthed yawn and rolled onto his side, out of Naruto's grip. He frowned, knowing the boy hadn't done it on purpose, but still.

Losing any patience he might've had, Naruto began to debate whether to do the original 'dump-ice-cold-bucket-of-water-on-sleeping-person's-head' or all-out kick him out of bed and watch him hit the floor, hard. He chuckled to himself, reaching over and shaking Sasuke's shoulder. "Hey Sasuke, I lost my virginity to your brother."

Suddenly dark pools of black were wide awake and watching him with horror.

"…It's a joke, Sasuke…"

He practically sighed in shown relief. Naruto blinked, but the relief that had glittered in Sasuke's pretty, dark eyes instantly evaporated, leaving a steel wall in its wake. The blue-eyed teenager felt a little crestfallen, but caught himself immediately. "Anyway, Sasuke, you and Itachi are taking the Hyuugas place at the theatre 'cause somethin' happened and…yeah…" His explanation now seemed much more open than it had been with Itachi. He blamed it on the fact that the older Uchiha had been staring at him with hungry eyes the entire time he was trying to talk. But now, Sasuke was only curious. Pure curiosity. That was it.

"Oh."

The raven-haired seventeen-year-old only then realized he was half-naked, and modestly pulled the blanket back up over his body. Naruto smirked.

* * *

_The grass was green. Blindingly green. It made his eyes sting when he focused on the color. Gasping in the humidity-soaked air, he jerked up, back spasming in pain at the slight movement. One thought registered in his mind at that moment._

_He wasn't where he was supposed to be._

_He was lying in a field, the backyard of a giant, white pillar mansion with curtains of silver silk, glistening and reflecting the mock of the sun. But he wasn't supposed to be at this place._

_A remembrance of cold, ice-laden nights, wrapped in the warm arms of another slipped into his mind, before fading away with the hot breeze. Something told him he wasn't supposed to be here._

_Something told him someone was waiting._

_But his mind was hazy. The heated air was getting to him, erasing the memories of the cold nights and warm bodies, replacing it with something so much more raw. He didn't want it; he didn't want to be here. _

_Yet the clouds in the baby blue sky continued to swim along lazily, not giving him a second thought as they headed for an unknown destination. _

_A wave of heat racked through his body, setting his blood on the boil. Again, one thought intruded his swirling mind._

'_Get to him. Get to that person. Get to that person **now**.'_

_Suddenly he was falling asleep again, the bright green grass folding softly beneath him, creating a makeshift bed for him to rest on, lulling him to sleep, telling him to forget. Forget about the only person that remembered._

_The summer warmth enveloped him. He was asleep again, in this nightmarish dream world. Though unconscious to his surrounds, he still had the lingering sensation of gagging._

_Of suffocation. Slow and sure. _

_The world, in that instant, washed over with a darkness so pure, it was nearly transparent.

* * *

_

When Neji woke up from a dreamland only he could describe in his head, he was met with a pair of gleaming, kelly green eyes. His gaze didn't waver as it bore into him, the thick liner coating the rims of his eyes just enough to hide obvious exhaustion. Yet still he knew it was there. He knew it was there, because those green eyes never shut once during the time he slept. That thought put Neji on edge.

"Morning, Sunshine." The nickname and time referred to was almost horribly amusing, due to the fact that the sun wasn't out and hadn't been shining for quite a while now, and it was probably very, very early in the AM hours of the morning. Neji let a slight smile tilt at his lips.

"You too, Gaara," he said in a voice thick with sleep still. Said redhead finally pulled his eyes away from his tired lover, focusing on the opposite wall hesitantly. He knew that Neji knew of his insomnia. It wasn't his fault that when he fell asleep he most likely experienced something much worse than the intoxicating dreams that gripped Neji's mind. Neji yawned silently, like a waking cat, and almost feared the cold that would hit him if he disentangled them and stood to change.

Gaara beat him to it. Before he could comprehend what was happening, the very bold redhead slipped from his grip and pulled his (blue silky, Neji noted) boxers on, followed by dark red, long pants that had two purple patches sewn into them neatly (one on the left leg, outer calf, and one on the right leg, beside the knee), and lastly, his dark gray, sleeveless shirt that Neji had so carelessly ripped off of him just last night. He hastily grabbed Neji's leather jacket and tugged it over his (too-pale-to-be-natural) arms, before heading for the door.

On instinct, Neji stood to stop him, the sheets still wrapped around his bare form. "I…I'm sorry about last night, but just…just don't tell…Naruto."

The redhead nodded, if that slight tip of his head was anything to go by, and turned back around. Just as he was about to leave, he glanced over his shoulder, and smiled. "Don't apologize, you didn't do anything but jump me, and I willingly agree to that, didn't I?" His voice was teasing, but still completely serious. Neji blankly stared at him, at a loss of what to say. After a few seconds of tense silence, Gaara left his room, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway for a little bit afterward.

Faintly, Neji wondered if this was what it felt like to be in love.

* * *

"Goddammit!" an angered brunette shouted, turning sharply around and glaring out a window. Out of said window was a street, practically deserted due to the harsh storm the night before. True, it was probably around six or seven in the morning, yet still, the sunrise glittered onto the street like it would an ocean, creating a beautiful image that a camera would have loved to capture. Kankuro almost lingered on it for a moment. 

Snapping back into his normal state of mind, he mentally cursed Temari in his head. It was that damn bitch's fault he was now lost in the fucking theatre; he didn't know it had more than two floors! It probably had at least five! Jesus Christ, what he would do when he got his hands on his sister.

The early morning left a dull, gray feeling in the air, causing Kankuro's spirits to effectively plummet. All he wanted was breakfast, but his wallet was running around, probably looking for a boyfriend. Damn you, Temari. Damn you until your hair turns purple…

Maybe that was a little too dramatic. Before his mind could invent even more ways to curse his sister, hurried footsteps met his ears, and he froze instantly, standing in the middle of the hallway, wearing what he had worn to bed, his loose, black pajamas. A figure approached him and, being very handicapped in the early morning, Kankuro had to squint at the form to recognize it. When he did, he gasped.

The redhead flinched for a fleeting moment, then continued onward like no one was there. "H-Hey, wait," he started, causing the green-eyed boy to halt. "I'm kinda lost. Could you help me?" Kankuro nervously scratched the back of his head. What if he recognized his voice from when he was four! Hoshit!

"Walk straight. See staircase, go down. Reach next floor. Do same until the stairs don't go down anymore. Then walk forward. See exit. Keep going until you're out on the frozen streets." He continued walking, straight by Kankuro. The brunette heard a faint, "Good riddance" under his voice, but chose to ignore it.

"Jeez, you're not exactly a happy person," Kankuro muttered, instantly regretting it as the redhead's eyes narrowed with very unhidden annoyance shimmering on the surface.

Then something hit Kankuro, as he watched his younger half-brother through tired eyes. He looked so…so elegant, so innocent, the rising sunlight gracing his features and drawing out the yellow in the depths of those spooky lime eyes. Even the unhappy scowl that contorted those soft, pale lips didn't affect the beauty. Absently, Kankuro wondered what Gaara would have turned out like if he hadn't been given away… sold.

He might've been even more corrupt. Maybe Temari had been right.

"Are you done staring?" Silence; a breath taken brunette, and then, "Look, sorry to interrupt you," sarcastic smile, "but I have people to beat, animals to talk to, jobs to do, things to kill, so if you don't mind," another sarcastic smile, this one more cruel, "I'll be on my way."

"Wait, Gaara—"

The silence grew in that instant, tenfold.

"How do you know my name?" the redhead hissed, half out of annoyance, half out of wonder.

"I…uh…Sh…Shikamaru…told me…?"

So that had been the brunette he was talking to yesterday. Still, Gaara was suspicious. "Whatever. Go ahead, follow me around like a lovesick puppy, I don't care, just try not to get in my way."

So…so cold, so lifeless, that four-year-old Gaara he use to know…

Gaara then spun and tore off, and Kankuro self-consciously noticed how strange his clothing was. _'Red and purple pants.' _Strangely, those were his favorite colors.

* * *

**OH NO! KANKY! YOU SLIPPED!**

**This is ever so fun to write. I posted a chapter the same day I finished this one. (grin) **

**Dear love to JK and DK for liking it so much. X3 Hearts! I'm patient enough to wait for more reviews…but who knows how long that really is?**

**NOW REVIEW, MAH BITCHES!**


	4. Under the Sun that's Not There

_Warning(s): Language... Can't really think of anything else._

_Disclaimer: Don't own, don't own, don't own! _

_Author Note: Do hope this chapter is presentable. I always seem to get one chapter out for a different story, and then this one the next day. How awesome is that? Read and review, please, loves!

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_

**This.Is.A**._Tearjerker_.**Crying.Now.For.Him.**

**Four.**_Under.the.Sun.that's.Not.There.

* * *

_

At the moment, Temari was pondering a new piece of information from a strange yet somehow impressing person. He had given a long, detailed profile on every single resident in the large building, and every room that made up its contents. Her interest was immediately piqued when the younger man had begun his description of and experiences with Gaara, her past half-brother.

To put it simply, he was…

Actually she doubted he _could_ be put simply. Sometimes she wondered if he even remembered anything about her and Kankuro; it seemed when he wanted to be, he turned a blind eye.

Gaara was the…flame. The flame that if bothered, would easily set the world on fire.

He was the one whom sarcastically and cruelly pointed the traveler in the wrong direction.

He was the thorn that stayed in a person's foot until they had surgery.

He was the fleck of gold that a miner found, reveled over, and proudly took to the bank, until being told that the gold was actually a fake.

He was the mirror that reflected a lie.

He was the one to always point out the loose strands in a plan to survive in, say, a war against aliens.

He was the intelligent one whom always knew the answer, but never told anyone.

He was the thoughtful, beautiful, dangerous, satanic, and teasing one stuck in a group of arguing politicians.

He was the hunter whom killed two birds with a single bullet.

And he was the silent one whom always asked the question no one could answer.

Where Temari came up with these musings, she had no idea. Smiling a bit to herself, she turned another dark corner, heading toward where her new acquaintance had mentioned the kitchen/dining room was located. At the sight of her brother standing like a statue in the middle of the hallway, looking down it with the strangest and most concerning look she had ever seen, Temari froze.

"Kankuro?" she questioned, approaching the brunette hesitantly. Sometimes he'd get in a mood where if you pestered him, he'd snap and chew your head of. That sort of reminded her of Gaara. They did have a bit in common, now that she thought about it.

He mumbled something incoherent, snapping out of his daze, and turned to look at her. "So you live."

She shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder."

The brunette eighteen-year-old gave her a twisted smile. "You think too much."

Again, another shrug. "Hungry?"

"Ravenous."

* * *

"Unsweetened tea, two cokes, and a water, table two—" 

_CLANG—CRASH._

"_Shit_!" the feminine voice breathed through clenched teeth.

"If I told you once, I've told you a million times! T—" another voice retorted, being cut off by the first.

"Shut the fuck up!"

"What the hell! I didn't do anything!"

"Yes you did, you bitch!"

"Oh, you're calling _me_ a _bi—_"

"Jesus is watching you," I growled.

Silence came; filling the room like the mixture of soda, water, and iced tea that coated the tile. The two threatened visibly gulped, and made themselves as discreet as possible. All at once, a slightly hesitant atmosphere took over the small diner as customers nervously picked at their food, or sipped at their beverages.

A snicker came from my right, and I glanced over at him, eyes narrowed. "Do you have something to say?" A mock innocent smile met my question, and I just shook my head and turned back to my untouched bagel.

"You gonna eat that?" a slightly overweight, blond boy to my right asked, and I slid the plate over to him without complaint.

Neji caught my gaze again, fixing me with a knowing look. I sneered.

After a wonderful night of sex, you'd think we'd be on better terms. Blame it on my natural charm—it's as sour as the lemon in my water. We weren't really angry at each other, just silently understanding, giving everyone the outlook that we were quarreling lovers whom just had a minor spout over something stupid earlier.

He stuck a strawberry under my nose, already bitten out of. "Eat."

Mumble, mumble.

"What was that?"

"…I'm not hungry…"

"No, that kid's not hungry," he motioned to the blond boy munching happily on my bagel. "You, on the other hand, are indeed hungry."

I stuck my tongue out at him playfully, only to be met with a mouthful of bitter sweetness. Chewing and swallowing, I sipped the sour water, and gave him the dirtiest look I could muster.

He smirked, making my heart go a-flutter, and making me think twice about how I had planned this relationship to end. The light drizzle of rain outside immediately turned into an all-out rain war.

"Looks like we're gonna get a little bit wet on the way back home," Neji said absently.

"Hm."

The two females from earlier returned, practically materializing from the shadows as silently as possible. One offered Neji a refill on his decaf coffee, which he declined, glancing at me over his shoulder. I shrugged, our eyes locking and an instant understanding passing between us. "It's best we go now," I muttered, slipping a ten on the clean counter and glaring at the two girls' for good measure.

Sakura gave a forced grin, definitely not heartfelt, and took the bill, no questions asked. "See ya 'round, Gaara!"

I noted that false tone of voice as an afterthought, and dragged the angel by his short sleeve out the door and into the heavy rain. We had a restaurant in the building, yet figures we'd pick the place _outside_ and _across _the street. It was just in our nature, I suppose. By the time we made it up the stairs to the entrance door, I was soaked head to toe, strands of red hair sticking to my forehead and blinding me. Annoyed, I wiped my vision clear, and shoved the elegant-looking door open.

The woman at the desk didn't even glance at us having worked here for so long and knowing that no guests would be arriving anytime soon. The entrance hall was so beautiful and welcoming and warm…so comforting from the onslaught of icy water pouring from heavens' angry pastures. I allowed a small smile to grace my near-frozen lips; he's seen me smile countless times. What's one more to the pile?

An antique designed rug stretched from one dark wood wall to the other, lavishly stitched with intricate patterns, some weaving gold threads into loops that confused the common new comer. Most of the theatre was made from wood; it showed the pure beauty of it, dark and inviting. A small set of stairs was placed just to the left of the welcoming desk, a hallway visible just at the top, rooms branching out in different directions, down different halls. TenTen quietly occupied herself, nose-deep in one book or another. She said nothing as I took to the stairs, and down the farthest right hallway, wishing my feet were bare, wanting so badly to feel the carpet that I knew would brush against my toes like they had so many years before…exploring the nightmarish building on the darkest of nights…wishing for the danger, the excitement in which I never received…but so horribly craved…

"Gaara?" his soft voice questioned from behind. I halted mid step, and turned to the longhaired angel.

"Yeah—"

My voice caught in my throat as two strong arms wrapped around my waist, a comfortable chest pressing against my back. Neji nuzzled his head against my neck, and despite the chills that were clawing up my spine, I felt strangely warm.

As though sensing my confusion, a muffled voice reached my ears, drowsy and casual, "You looked cold."

It drew a little smile to my face.

But it fell when I remembered.

He'd be gone soon.

* * *

Keir had no idea where the brats had run off to. Not that he really cared. In their minds, probably a better, 'happier' place in the world. They had always complained about him being cruel. Keir didn't think he was cruel. He thought they were just being snobby, and selfish, and Pre Madonna's. Or at least, that's what he had called Temari once, and then curtly being snapped at by her, saying, "My name's Temari." 

Like he didn't know!

He named that God forsaken child, after all. But being here—this was really asking for it. Kankuro had practically begged on his knees to stay another whole—_fucking_—week. Three days had been Keir's limit, and yet the fact that his brunette son would've given his right arm to stay longer was enough to hold him another seven days. But then they were leaving.

The brunette man gave the other adult with him an odd look as the silver-haired man questioned him about where he came from. Hm. What would be a plausible enough answer to get him to shut up?

"Japan."

It was a lie, but the man seemed to believe it. "What is it like there?"

How was he supposed to know? Thankfully, before Keir could even think up another white lie, evolving the even smaller one before that only more, a dark-haired woman approached the first man, sighing. The two began an idle conversation. Keir thought that if that guy could forget a concern so simply, then he must be an idiot.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Keir spotted a flash of red, before it disappeared again.

Oh great, his conscience was catching up to him. In that very minute, he got directions from the front table-lady to the nearest bar. That always helped.

…Right?

* * *

Sasuke rushed up the narrow stairway backstage, avoiding several ropes hanging haphazardly in his way, as he continued on. At the top, a few boxes lay open and deserted, completely empty save for a few brightly colored articles of clothing. He breathed heavily, hurrying toward the other side of the storage area, and climbing another set of stairs. Once at the peak of these, he paused, combed his bangs back from his face, and sighed deeply. 

Directions were printed clearly in black ink upon the back of his pale hand, and he squinted to read it. Gaara's handwriting was so spidery; Sasuke doubted he'd ever find the opposed object. After a bit of searching and lots of dust later, coal black eyes spotted a small, brown box, isolated and off to the side. Inside was exactly what he needed. Or rather, what Gaara needed.

Muttering under his breath, the youth hoisted the specific box into his arms, and hurried back down the stairs. Instead of descending straight to floor one, to the stage where Gaara most likely was now, Sasuke stayed a few flights upstairs, and approached the balcony that overlooked a clip of the stage area. As expected, the redhead was sitting cross-legged, almost concealed in the darkness of the backstage. Sasuke smirked.

"Gaara!" he shouted in warning, before dropping the box and watching as gravity pulled it downward. Sasuke silently thanked whatever god there was that Gaara had decided to sit where he could reach him; it made his evil plans a lot easier.

There was a loud, colorful curse as the once preoccupied in his own thoughts teen's head was met with the, unfortunately, other end of the innocent brown box. And unfortunately, it was open.

But fortunately, the box contained only pieces of clothing in a variety of colors.

When Gaara opened his eyes warily, he found a vivid yellow kimono draped over his lap, a few hats scattered to his left, and something that he couldn't quite see on his head. Reaching up, he tentatively pulled it down. The second his mind registered what it was, the redhead reflexively threw it as far away as it would go, and hehurried desperately to stand, glaring at the brunette who was undoubtedly laughing his brains out just a few floors up. It wasn't even the right box! Why would he need women's _underwear_, for Christ's Sake!

"SASUKE!" he hissed, loud enough for even those in the practice room to catch. Kiba, being one of those few, winced, instantly understanding. _Oh dear, I fear for the Uchiha's life… _Many others reflected this thought.

The boy whose life was supposedly now in threat, flinched, but did not in the least regret his little prank. Sure it was pointless, and maybe a little childish, but honestly, this theatre has been so dull over the past few weeks. He needed to… 'spice it up a bit'. Snickering, the brunette turned tail and darted back up the stairs, then continued skipping a few steps at a time, climbing staircase, after staircase, until he, quite quickly, reached the very attic of the theatre.

Oh, shit. This place was even freakier than the last time he had run upon it! And run, meaning, literally.

Sasuke stopped briefly (though back in his early high school years (back when life was normal, actually) he'd been on the track team) to catch his breath. Panting, he glanced around as though expecting the redheaded demon to materialize from the wall and swing a battle axe at him, before moving farther into the darkish room.

Pausing by the window, he glanced out it, wondering absently why it was so cloudy and dirty (didn't the cleaning people clean? Oh, right, what cleaning people?), then pushed some more loose bangs from his face, and approached the opposite side of the room. The floor beneath his feet creaked threateningly, as though it'd snap from under him any second. Sasuke ignored the lump in his throat, and pushed heavily against the door on the other wall, hoping desperately it would open.

It did, with a bit of manly, 'Uchiha' strength, and the orange and pink-bleached sunset were revealed to him. Instantly, it nearly took his breath away. Being in such a polluted-and-always-busy town, rarely did he ever see sunsets and sunrises anymore. More usually, it was either the gloomy gray of the early morning, the gloomy gray of the evening, or the gloomy-and-cold gray of twilight.

Honestly, Sasuke liked the twilight time. Barely anyone was up at those hours, except perhaps Gaara. But that was expected. And it's not like Sasuke went to the redhead's room to have heart-to-heart conversations. He doubted anyone could have a heart-to-heart conversation with the demon. Where was his damn family, anyway? Even Sasuke had his brother. Everyone knew Naruto's parents were dead; Neji had his entire _family_ living here (his pour soul); and Kiba never really had anyone. He was born without real parents, left on the streets without real parents, and brought here without real parents. Almost the same storyline as Naruto, minus that one small part including an old teacher Naruto had once had that took him in on the spot for about three years. All in all, this place was like a dream come true for them. Nowhere else were they truly accepted. Not even those homeless places.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed the shadow fall over his prone form, and squeaked (embarrassedly) when a foot met his back. "Bastard," a venomous voice hissed, but surprisingly, no other violence followed the shove. Instead, Gaara sat down beside the brunette and watched the sky in awe.

"Pretty, huh?" Sasuke dared to speak.

For a moment, Gaara didn't answer, then,

"Looks like blood."

Awkward pause.

Typical.

* * *

"**Keir" is a name I randomly found while surfing the net. Like it? I do. But do I have any idea what it means? Nope. And do I have any idea how it's pronounced?**

…

**Maybe.**

**Okay, no I don't. But it's cool, right? Right? Sounds French, doesn't it?**

**Anyway, do review. Would've added more, but you know… Lazy me. This chapter wasn't one of my bestest though, sadly. u.u**


	5. Late Nights Fading

_Warning(s): Language again, I guess you could say. Expect quite a bit of that, dears. Oh and yaoi all the way to the farthest corner of the Earth._

_Disclaimer: I own the ideas, people, not the characters._

_Author's Notes: Okay, okay. I do weird POVs, I know. When it's in First Person, it's Gaara. Any other person, and it'll be in Third. Sometimes Gaara will be in Third, I know, but that's only because he's being looked at from a different point of view. Make any sense? If not, I am terribly sorry. You may email me if you wish.

* * *

_

**This.Is.A.**_Tearjerker._**Crying.Now.For.Him.**

**Five.**_Late.Nights.Fading._

* * *

We got more visitors today. I didn't like them at all. Itachi told me to show them to their rooms. I really regretted having him as my 'boss' now. It was getting a little old, him playing the leader. 

_Follow the leader! He'll lead you to your death!_

Sounded just like him.

Damned Uchihas. They are just there to get under your skin. I swear. Good at everything, perfect to annoy, and sexy as hell. Not that _I_ have ever really found them attractive. But to say that would be just like lying to myself, I guess. Yeah, they're sexy. But I don't like their attitude.

_I don't like your attitude, mister! Go to your room!_

And then there were the other guests already here. They were nearly as bad; always looking at me like they could see right through me. Especially that man. Every time I make eye contact…

Let's just say the shivers aren't from the cold.

On another topic, there's been tell of a relationship going on between that blonde chick and Nara. I wouldn't doubt it; Nara is just one to hit it off with someone who's leaving in a week. Oh well. On the plus side, he'll lay off the complaining, having someone to kick him into place. Though on the down side, once she leaves, he'll be even worse. Good things never do last.

The sun has risen by now, though I couldn't really catch sight of it anyway. Actually, when is that not the case? I occupied myself by choosing something to wear before heading out to greet the new guests. Naruto agreed to take care of them this time, 'else I'd just bite their heads off. Something about them not being exactly the kindly type. That didn't really bother me; I just hope Naruto can handle it. Cause of a snicker here. 'Course he can! If he couldn't, then I'd know, and point it out, and he'd get mad, and we'd argue, ending with me becoming host and him becoming second-in-command, handing me the key to the guests' room.

Looking for something to wear and being picky about it makes me sound like a girl. I don't care though; I doubt anyone is going to comment. Today's arrangement consists of black jeans too long for me, so double-folded at the edges, and a collared, navy blue shirt with mint green pinstripes. To top it off, I decided to wear a long-sleeved, red winter shirt underneath, with black gloves to protect my fingers from the cold, and Neji's leather jacket I had grown to adore and probably plan to steal from him over that.

I hesitated before leaving the room, wondering if I should shut my window today, since the sky signaled the possible onslaught of another rainstorm. I do, since I don't want the wind to blow the rain inside my room, but half of me still wished it to stay open. Outside in the hall I noticed several things: the lights were blindingly bright today for some reason or another; quite a few people were milling about; and the curtains were drawn over hallway windows. Disturbing in the least. Nearly the entire building knew of my obsession with space; to close a window on the floor I lived was suicide.

Blinking as the son of the lady who was staying currently on the first floor without too much social involvement sped by, I turned and made my way to one of the grand staircases, hoping that maybe I could catch Naruto before he snuck off on 'break'. We still worked on the off-season; it was pretty sad.

In the great hall, things were the same. A lot of people were making their way from the tall, oak doors to TenTen's once-empty-but-now-piled-with-papers desk. She seemed about as confused as I was; didn't the off-season mean slow business?

Holding the door open and smiling to the people carrying along their way in and out of the theatre was none other than Shikamaru. His hair had been somewhat tamed into a lower ponytail, and his white dress shirt was carefully buttoned, plus dress pants. All in all, his attire was to be feared. When Shikamaru actually went out of his way to look nice, it meant either the world was ending, or the Ambassador of some faraway nation himself had come to visit. I was now as confused as poor TenTen, if not more.

He waved me over. "Hey, what's with the crowd of sudden people? I thought today would be trouble-free…"

I shrugged to his questioning look, having obviously no answer. Shikamaru sighed. Then I remembered my first initial mission. "Oh, where's Naruto? He was taking care of the early morning guests we had. I wanted to ask him something." But before the brunette could reply back, a voice interrupted.

"Hello there, younguns. Might one of you be able to point me in the direction of a liquor-serving bar?" the deep, accented voice asked.

_Don't most bars serve alcohol? _Outwardly, I spoke, "Sure," and turned to face the male. He stood tall, and was most definitely not from around here. His hair was orange, not very much red, but bright, bright orange, and his eyes were very green. At first I thought it was the leprechaun God Himself, come to rein the Earth in green clover cleverness, but then forced that conclusion away immediately.

Where was he from? Ireland's very heart?

"Um, sir, just go across the street here. It should be on the right around there, called Harvest or something," I forced out after a very strange and silent moment of staring.

Yeah, his canny resemblance to a leprechaun definitely outdid my own.

"Why thankie, young man."

I almost expected him to disappear in a puff of green, clover-like smoke, but wasn't all-too shocked when he merely walked out the door Shikamaru was still stiffly holding open.

After he was completely out of site, Shikamaru spoke up, "Can you say tourist or what?"

I swallowed thickly, and responded, "God yes. Where have they come from? I guess they don't understand the weather and season here; that may be why we've had such a sudden flood of guests. It's a good thing, though, I guess."

"Good thing? Ha! You're delusional. The off-season is supposed to be for, oh how should I put it, _relaxation_."

Smirking slightly, I excused myself and meandered through the thinning-yet-also-growing crowd of what had been tagged 'Tourists' to TenTen. She practically grabbed me by the collar to pull me behind the desk.

"What. The. Hell! I swear! They're breeding as we speak! Isn't it supposed to be January?"

Well, yeah, but that didn't stop some leprechauns it seemed. _Are they all Irish_? I wondered absently, before TenTen shook some sense into me. "They're invading! Quick, get out the nukes and climb under a steel bench!"

Now I remembered why I never talked to her. Pushing her away as gently as I would allow, being horribly annoyed by now, I stalked away in search of someone I had hoped to catch _before _being sucked into such madness. The idiotic blond. Right.

* * *

Said person at the current moment was brooding. Yesterday he had been molested, and the dark cloud had yet to be lifted from his head. Now the guests had it in for him, too. He wondered if Gaara got this much attention. 

"Excuse me, I asked you a question."

At this rude snap, Naruto's eyes flitted up and met dark, hinted black ones. "Oh, yea—yes, terribly sorry. What was that?"

Dammit, dammit, dammit! Stop daydreaming, Naruto! It's not good for your health!

"I wanted to know where the shampoo in the bathroom was. I can't seem to find it," the man said, still keeping such a straight and intense glare it nearly made Naruto turn away and walk right out of the room.

He forced a smile onto his face. A charming, polite one, at the very least. Immediately, Naruto strode over into the side room, also known as the bathroom, and fetched a few small, white bottles from the cabinet under the seat. "Here you are, sir," he said pleasantly, setting the bottles onto the counter and retreating back into the main living space of the room.

"Why thank you."

Naruto turned to leave. "I hope you have a wonderful stay here, sir."

A malicious little smirk smeared itself onto the almost abnormally pale man. "I'm sure I will."

The blonde shut the door, and leaned against the other side in the hallway, eyes wide. What…in _God's_ name…was _that_? If he didn't know better, Naruto could've said that the older man was…was—

"Hey, where the hell have you been? I thought I asked you to help me with clearing the storage room this morning. But, oh no, you're hanging with the rich men. Never knew you were a Gold Digger," the older youth said with a mocking smirk.

"Oh fuck you, Uchiha."

"…How hard?"

Naruto turned to face him sharply with a deep blush on his face, in complete in utter shock to his very, very deepest core of his soul. Sure Sasuke had the backbone to pick at people till they either crumbled, or snapped, but either way, nothing…nothing like _that. _The Uchihas were simply polite. Not suggestive in any way, shape, or form.

Wait.

Scratch that.

They probably weren't anymore, at all, if yesterday was anything to go by. Sasuke wouldn't rape someone if given the chance in a dark, empty alleyway, would he?

He narrowed his cerulean blue eyes on the suspect. Naruto was going to have to keep a better eye on that.

"Leaving now," Sasuke finished abruptly, having been examined long enough. "Are you going to help me or not? I'll reduce your pay if you don't."

"Psh. Bastard." He followed anyway.

* * *

"DEATH." 

Several heads craned up at the sound of the voice of…someone. It was a very upset, a very angry voice. Even if you didn't know the English language, or the British accent, you could clearly tell by the tone of the late teenage voice that they were aggravated over something or another. If someone said death aloud in a very peaceful environment, you'd say the same thing, probably.

Kiba dropped the box onto his toe by accident, howled and pain, and kicked it off his foot out of reflex. It went barreling into the wall.

"Kiba! Watch it! You could've hit someone!"

"I wish," was his negative retort.

"What is _with_ you?" Naruto questioned under his breath, carrying two boxes in his arms through the doorway of the second floor.

He remained silent.

"Oh, hey Kiba, I found your old music. The ones you wrote, remember? For that play way back when? I think it's been a few years. You should play a bit of it later," Sasuke commented after Kiba regained an ounce of composure.

The brunette grumbled under his breath.

Meanwhile, Naruto was killing himself wondering why everyone had gone haywire and off the deep end this morning. Floods of new guests, a horny Sasuke, an incensed Kiba, and pointless work.

Then he noticed something. Turning to Sasuke, the blonde asked, "Why are we unpacking all this crap? It's a waste of time."

"Not if we are going to at least entertain our guests during their stay here."

"WHAT?"

He sighed quite audibly. "Isn't this place meant for that? Performances?"

"Yeah, but… I wasn't expecting one till next season!"

"I wasn't expecting French people to show up."

Naruto muttered something under his breath and turned away, hastily setting the boxes down off to the side of where the other ones had been set, downstairs and behind the closed curtains.

"What kind of performance where you planning on having?"

The Uchiha shrugged in response, placing his own boxes beside Naruto's. "Something different. Something we know, but haven't done in a while."

"Thank god for easy theatre skills."

Sasuke smiled ever so slightly, then faced the right exit as Kiba walked in, balancing three boxes in his arms. "Fuckfuckfuck," the brunette hissed colorfully, dropping the boring brown squares clumsily onto the ground.

Groaning, Sasuke slapped a hand to his forehead, and Naruto just laughed.

"He's PMSing."

Naruto silently agreed, with a tilted grin on his face.

* * *

The redhead, tired, and just spent out on walking through hallway, after hallway, after hallway, opened the door to Ino and Sakura's restaurant. He nearly collapsed onto the bar table, his forehead banging against the marble interior of it, making a dull ache add onto the painful throbbing already breeding under his skull. 

"Tough day? You're acting like it's July. Business can't be _that_ bad," Ino greeted, walking over and setting a washcloth behind the counter and wiping her forehead clear of sweat with the back of her hand.

"You haven't…seen 'them'…yet… My god… I'm having to learn…basic French…now, too…"

The blonde-haired girl raised an eyebrow. "Well they haven't hit us yet. You poor, poor soul," she said with clear empathy. Sure they hated each other, and shot insults back and forth all the time, but when it came to tourists, they were the best of allies.

"Please…?"

She knew what he was asking. Practically all of her other customers who would've shot the gun if it was in their hand said the same exact thing. Still, Ino hesitated. "You're only seventeen, Gaara."

"Inoooo…" he dragged out pleadingly. "So? I'll be eighteen soon… Please?"

Mentally sighed and slamming her head against a random wall, Ino retreated over to the left a ways, and got the badly craved liquid.

"Thank you _so, so, so, SO_ much. I'll pay double for each…one…" Gaara said through a gulp of the burning drink.

"You're having more than _one_? I didn't agree to that!" she said hotly, not believing her ears. Ino was NOT going to be at fault for another drunken bastard staggering out of her restaurant and being fifty-six percent more vulnerable to car crashes while making his way across the street without so much as looking.

"Hey, hey… I'm the one paying. Besides… I'm not drunk _yet_, am I? Huh?" he said, already talking way out of character.

The blonde sighed aloud this time, annoyed, before setting her elbows on the counter near him, and watching Gaara chug the alcohol until the glass was bare empty. Wide, begging green eyes met her tiredly narrowed blue ones, and she groaned loudly.

"Oh what the fuck. It's not my fault, right?" Ino persuaded herself, going to refill the clear glass with the amber liquid.

"Yes," Gaara muttered, doing anything to just get that glass back in his hands, full again.

Damned Sakura for not being on shift. Damn her to hell. She might've been able to say no.

* * *

Kankuro opened the door to the little pub across the street, dodging another onslaught of rain that had begun to trickle pass thick, gray clouds. At first he didn't notice his brother practically sleeping with his forehead pressed against an empty glass of alcohol, but when he heard the female start muttering curses with the name _Gaara_ hastily thrown in, he looked around widely. 

"Myfaultmyfaultallmyfuckingfuckingfault! DammitdammitdammitIno!" the pretty blonde girl behind the counter said, pacing with a twisted frown marring her pale lips. "What the hell am I going to do? We're closing in a few minutes!"

At that precise moment she noticed the brunette standing just by the door, and gasped. "You! Are you staying in the theatre just across the street?" She sounded desperate. Kankuro didn't know what to say.

"Uh…w-well…y-yeah, I guess you could say tha—"

"THANK THE GODS ABOVE. PLEASE do me a favor and take Gaara back to his room!"

"I d-don't know w-where he—"

"Fifth floor, third window on the right," she cut in.

"How do you… how do you know that?"

She sighed, shoulders slumping as she cast an almost found look over at the redhead. "He's always sitting on his windowsill when I close up the shop. He's… He looks sad. I think he might just be daydreaming…reminiscing, I really don't know. Perhaps just thinking. But I always wish that I could know what is going through his head. I want to know…but I doubt I'll ever get that deep into his soul. There's a lock on it. I don't know how to open it," she said in a soft voice.

"You…"

"No, no, no. I… I just feel bad for him. Whatever… Whatever happened to him before he came here really…damaged him, that's all. That's what I believe."

Kankuro flinched, but the girl didn't seem to notice. She continued on.

"I'm Ino Yamanaka, by the way. Drop by whenever you want. And if you can't find his room, stop by the front desk and ask TenTen. She's a good friend of mine; she'll know." Ino gave him an extremely thankful smile, before returning hurrying to the other side of the bar table, and to Gaara's side. She motioned Kankuro over.

"Put his arm over your shoulder," she instructed, "like this. Then lift him up and help him cross the street. He may wake up before you get there, but he won't talk or do anything. Just stare dumbly," Ino finished.

"You've done this before?"

She gave a little smile. "Yeah."

Without another word, Kankuro hoisted his brother up and left the restaurant. It was pretty difficult getting him across the street and to the double doors of the theatre, but Kankuro managed. He paused by the front desk.

The girl TenTen seemed to know exactly what the problem was, giving Kankuro the room number, and a spare key for the door. Kankuro pocketed it and headed over to the elevator. Sometimes he didn't understand why Gaara and everyone else that lived and worked here didn't take the elevator unless it was absolutely necessary. They used the stairs. It was probably because they needed to keep it clear for the guests. That was probably why Gaara and everyone else here were so lean.

Speaking of…

Flushing, Kankuro readjusted his brother draping on his shoulder, and reached the right floor. Thankful that no one occupied the hall, the lights dim, Kankuro watched the numbers until he came to Gaara's room. Taking out the key, he unlocked it, opening the door, stepping inside, and closing it behind him.

One thing he noticed was that the room was strangelyempty. Nothing seemed to occupy it. Kankuro would've been relieved had he even seen a picture of their mother on Gaara's dresser, but that was bare as well.

It saddened him.

Kankuro laid Gaara down onto his bed, and then pulled the blanket down and over the redhead's body. He thought maybe Gaara'd be cold, but he didn't seem to be.

About to leave the room again, a voice stopped him.

"O…open the…the window…p-please, brother…"

The brunette's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he spun around.

Gaara remained motionless and asleep on his bed.

Kankuro let out a long sigh of relief. That was close. For some reason, he didn't want Gaara to know about him, Temari and Keir. He'd probably hate them into the deepest pits of hell.

Kankuro didn't want that one bit.

Walking over the wide window, he tugged it openwith a sharp intake of breath, and immediately a rush of icy wind swept in. Almost shutting it on instinct, Kankuro was stopped by the same small, tired voice.

"No…l-leave it open, please… I-I want it open…brother…"

Kankuro felt the tears at his eyes, yes, but he refused to let them fall. Instead, he left the room slowly and silently, shutting the door with a murmured, almost inaudible:

"_I love you, Gaara."_

The key remained in his pocket all the way back to his room.

* * *

**Whoa, this chapter was long. Don't expect them all to be like this. I was hit by inspiration from an AMV of Kankuro and Gaara cowering in fear at a drunken Temari.**

**Reviews would be nice, loves.**


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